Дневник странствующего монаха – Том 15, глава 1

“Да благословит тебя сегодня мать Ганга”

Ever since becoming a devotee of Lord Krishna in 1970, I have been fascinated with the Kumbha Mela festival. This year I decided to join millions of other pilgrims in the journey to the Ardha Kumbha Mela where, from January 15th to March 4th, ISKCON devotees were to follow in Srila Prabhupada’s footsteps by bringing his books, the Holy Names and prasadam to the festival.

Kumbha Mela is the largest religious gathering in the world.
Estimates anticipated that 120 million pilgrims—nearly double the
population of England and France combined—would visit the Mela over
seven weeks. The Mela takes place four times within a twelve-year period
on the banks of four of India’s most holy rivers: the Godavari River in
Nashik, the Shipra River in Ujjain, the Ganges River in Haridwar and
the confluence of the Ganges, Yamuna, and Saraswati Rivers in Prayagraj
(formerly known as Prayaga ).

This year’s Mela was to be held at the confluence site at Prayagraj.
The point of convergence is called “Triveni Sangam.” Bathing in any of
the sacred rivers has a purifying effect, but it is said that the
purification is increased a hundred times at the sangam and a thousand
times at the sangam during Kumbha Mela.

Srila Prabhupada writes:

“Bathing during the month of Magha at the Magha-Mela [Kumbha
Mela] still takes place. This is a very old Mela (assembly), dating from
time immemorial. It is said that ever since the Lord in the form of
Mohini took a bucket of nectar and kept it at Prayaga, holy men have
gathered there every year and observed the Magha-Mela. Every twelfth
year there is a Kumbha-Mela, a great festival, and all the holy men from
all over India assemble there. Bathing at the confluence of the Ganges
and Yamuna, near the fort at Allahabad (Prayaga), is mentioned in the
revealed scriptures:

“If one goes to Prayaga and bathes at the confluence of the
Ganges and Yamuna in the month of Magha, he attains the result of giving
hundreds and thousands of cows in charity. Simply by bathing for three
days there, he attains the results of such a pious activity.”

[ Caitanya Caritamrita, Madhya 18.145 ]

I had a special desire to attend Kumbha Mela this year as the main
bathing day, February 4th, was on Mauni Amavasya, which creates a
special tithi that appears only once every 200 years. However, my main
motivation to go was to meet with the holy men Srila Prabhupada
describes in his above purport, and to share with them the glories of
Lord Caitanya and His movement of chanting the holy names which He
inaugurated just over 500 years ago. My experience in India is that most
people are aware of the 10 primary incarnations of the Lord—the das
avatars such as Lord Ramacandra, Varaha, Kurma, Matsya and so on. But
very few are aware of the avatar of this age, Lord Caitanya, whose
appearance is predicted in ancient scriptures like Srimad Bhagavatam:

“In the Age of Kali, intelligent persons perform congregational
chanting to worship the incarnation of Godhead who constantly sings the
names of Krsna. Although His complexion is not blackish, He is Krsna
Himself. He is accompanied by His associates, servants, weapons and
confidential companions.” [ Srimad Bhagavatam 11.5.32 ]

The origin of Kumbha Mela is mentioned in the Vedic scriptures. It is
stated that in bygone ages, the demigods and demons assembled together
to churn the ocean of milk to produce the nectar of immortality. Mandara
Mountain was used as a churning rod, and Vasuki, the king of serpents,
became the rope for churning. The demigods took Vasuki’s tail and the
demons his head, and they churned the milk ocean for one thousand
celestial years. Among many other amazing things, a pot of immortal
nectar was produced. The demigods were fearful that the demons would
take advantage of it, so they stole the pot and hid it in the four
places on Earth where the Mela is held. During the act of hiding, a drop
of immortal nectar spilled from the pot at each of the four places.
Kumbha Mela is held at the time when, according to astrological
calculations, the immortal nectar is most readily available to those who
bathe in the sacred rivers.

Approaching the festival site, we pulled over at a small hill that
provided a panoramic view of the Mela. The magnitude of the site
testified to the pilgrims’ enthusiasm to be liberated from the material
world through contact with the nectar of immortality. Witnessing the
vast landscape of tents, I was fascinated by the thought that so many
people were coming simply for spiritual purposes.

Prabhupada said:

“At the Kumbha-Mela, millions of people come to take bath in the
Ganges because they are interested in how to become spiritually
liberated from this material world. They travel thousands of miles to
take bath in the Ganges at the holy place of Prayaga.” [ Room
conversation with Pusta Krsna das ]

From our vantage point on the hill, I could see thousands upon
thousands of people pouring into the Mela. These people were prepared to
travel long distances and tolerate many discomforts, including sleeping
in austere conditions in very cold weather. Some arrived on overcrowded
trains. Others came by bus, car and even ox carts. While the rich and
famous flew into Prayagraj on chartered flights, the multitudes came on
foot carrying all their necessities—food and a couple changes of
clothes—in bundles on their heads. But whether rich or poor, everyone
had the same agenda: to bathe in the sangam at the auspicious moment and
attain passage back to the spiritual world. I could hear many people
glorifying the Ganges with cries of “Ganga Ma ki jaya! All glories to
Mother Ganges!”

“Just as the Ganga is the greatest of all rivers, Lord Acyuta the
supreme among deities and Lord Sambhu [Siva] the greatest of Vaisnavas,
so Srimad-Bhagavatam is the greatest of all Puranas.” [ Srimad
Bhagavatam 12.13.16 ]

I knew that as Westerners, we would be a tiny minority at the Mela,
but we were not the first foreigners to take part by any means. A
seventh-century diary written by Hiuen Tsiang from China mentions Kumbha
Mela. He writes that he witnessed half a million people gather on the
banks of the Ganges at Prayagraj to observe a celebration for 75 days.
He even mentions that a king was present with his ministers, scholars,
philosophers and sages, and that he gave away huge amounts of gold,
silver and jewels to acquire pious credit and assure himself a place in
heaven.

The current rulers of India, likewise, were taking part in the Mela
by facilitating many of the logistical details. The government had been
working on the services and accommodations for an entire year, and the
statistics were mind-boggling. Over 6,000 religious and cultural
organizations had been allotted land, including our International
Society for Krsna Consciousness. The Mela site sprawled over 32 square
miles, an area equivalent to a large town. There were 4,200 premium
tents, 300 kilometers of roads, 122,000 toilets, 20,000 dustbins, 10,000
policemen and 30,000 military personnel. They had provided row upon row
of simple tents for free accommodation. There were lost-and-found
centers dotted throughout the Mela, intended mainly for helping people
find their lost family members and friends. In 2013, thousands of
people—mostly women and children—went missing in the huge crowds. The
entire cost of this year’s Kumbha Mela was estimated at 400 million
dollars.

There were many ashrams and camps distributing free food throughout
the Mela, including our ISKCON camp. Overall, 5,384 metric tons of rice,
7,834 tons of wheat, 3,174 tons of sugar and 767 kiloliters of kerosene
were allocated to the food distribution centers. 160 dispensers of
clean drinking water were available throughout the Mela.

A 100-bed hospital and ten smaller hospitals staffed by 200 doctors
and 1,500 health professionals were set up throughout the event. 80
practitioners of Ayurveda were also available. There were elaborate
plans for waste management too. Every one of the 122,000 toilets were
geo-tagged to help tackle any problems. Talk about organization!

Meeting India’s Spiritual Leader

It is generally very difficult to meet famous spiritual personalities
in India due to strict security policies, but luck was on my side. My
good friend Pundrik Goswami of the Radha Raman temple in Vrindavan
invited me to stay with him at a camp where many of the principal
spiritual dignitaries would be staying. It was called, Guru Karishni
Camp, and was run by Swami Sharanandaji Maharaja, a prominent figure in
Vrindavan. I considered this to be a golden opportunity to network with
these personalities, most of whom would be unlikely to visit our ISKCON
camp at the Mela or ISKCON temples elsewhere in India.

Once I arrived at the camp, Pundrik Goswami lost no time introducing
me to the spiritual leaders present. His introduction followed a
standard format: he would begin by glorifying Srila Prabhupada and
explaining how he took Krsna consciousness to the West and how ISKCON
has become a worldwide spiritual organization. Then he would introduce
me and share some of the results of my service in different parts of the
world. His introduction acted as an endorsement whereby India’s
spiritual leaders gained confidence and respect for my humble self and,
through me, Srila Prabhupada’s movement.

Over several days I had enlightening talks with numerous personalities. These included:

· Sri Ravi Shankar, the head of the Art of Living Foundation: I
shared with him the work of ISKCON in communist countries like Russia
and China. I told him of how Srila Prabhupada went to Russia in the
1970s and of the success of our movement there since that time. He was
so touched that he gave me a beautiful silk chaddar as a gift.

· Swami Chidananda of Parmarth Niketan from Rishikesh: he wasn’t
staying at the Guru Karishni Camp, but like many other sadhus, he
visited to associate with prominent spiritual leaders. We had lunch
together on two occasions. After I spoke to him about the glories of
Srila Prabhupada, he offered to help renovate holy places in Vrindavan.
He was especially eager to give money towards cleaning Radha Kunda so
that pilgrims could drink the water from it, as well as establishing a
large evening arotika on the banks of that sacred lake.

· Keshav Prasad Maurya, the deputy chief minister of UP: he had some
misconceptions about our movement which I was happy to resolve to his
full satisfaction.

· Swami Avdeshanand, the leader of one million Naga Babas and head of
the Juna Akhada: Naga Babas (translated literally as “naked yogis”) are
worshipers of Lord Siva. With their ash-covered bodies and matted
dreadlocks, even their physique resembles his. They take vows of
celibacy, renounce societal norms and live in the Himalayas. Swami
Avdeshanand is such a respected leader that he is given the honor of
being the first person to bathe at Kumbha Mela. After our talk he took
my hand and said, “Your movement is creating a spiritual revolution all
over the world!”

· Sri Rajendra Das Ji Maharaja, a well-known sadhu with a big ashram
in Vrindavan: moved by Srila Prabhupada’s voyage to the USA and his
introduction of Krsna consciousness in almost every country of the
world, he invited me to visit him for lunch in Vrindavan.

· Lokesh Muni, leader of the Jains in India: this was the third time I
have met him over the last few years. He invited me to spend time with
him at his headquarters in Rajasthan.

Lost At The Mela

Going anywhere outside the Guru Karishni Camp was a challenge because
there was a veritable flood of humanity outside its confines: an
estimated 64 million people were descending upon the Mela to bathe on
February 4th, the most auspicious bathing day.

I woke up early that morning which was an austerity in itself. It was
mid-winter and it was cold in the tent where I was staying. I bathed
quickly in an improvised bathroom which was without hot water, and then
went out into the cold foggy morning.

“How in the world are 64 million people going to bathe along the
river bank?” I wondered. And then a doubt entered my mind. “Will I
actually be able to bathe in the river myself?”

The previous night I had searched the internet for all the
information I could find on the three sacred rivers, the Ganges, Yamuna
and Saraswati. A recent BBC article described the Ganges as the world’s
sixth most polluted river. It said that 3,000 million liters of
untreated sewage are pumped into the river every day; the figure didn’t
include the industrial waste poured into the Ganges as it descends from
the Himalayas to the Bay of Bengal. By the time it reaches Prayagraj, a
town that also contributes untreated sewage to its waters, the Ganges,
the article said, becomes a sewer.

The Prime Minister of India, Narendra Modi, claimed that cleansing the Ganges was nothing less than a mission from God.

“Ma Ganga has called me,” he told the crowd at his victory
celebration some years ago when he was swept to power in a landslide
victory. “She has decided some responsibilities for me. Ma Ganga is
screaming for help; she is saying ‘I hope one of my sons gets me out of
this filth’. It is possible it has been decided by God for me to serve
Ma Ganga.”

He pledged serious money to his Clean Ganga Mission – more than $3 billion dollars.

This was sobering and disturbing information. I turned away from
Google to the Srimad Bhagavatam and the purports of my spiritual master
for guidance. My doubts were resolved when I read this:

“By the inclination to serve the lotus feet of the Supreme
Personality of Godhead, suffering humanity can immediately cleanse the
dirt which has accumulated in their minds during innumerable births.
Like the Ganges water, which emanates from the toes of the lotus feet of
the Lord, such a process immediately cleanses the mind, and thus
spiritual or Krsna consciousness gradually increases.” [ Srimad
Bhagavatam, 4.21.31 ]

In his purport, Srila Prabhupada writes:

“In India, one can actually see that a person who takes a bath in
the Ganges waters daily is almost free from all kinds of diseases. A
very respectable brahmana in Calcutta never took a doctor’s medicine.
Even though he sometimes felt sick, he would not accept medicine from
the physician but would simply drink Ganges water, and he was always
cured within a very short time. The glories of Ganges water are known to
Indians and to ourselves also. The river Ganges flows by Calcutta.
Sometimes within the water there are many stools and other dirty things
which are washed away from neighboring mills and factories, but still
thousands of men take baths in the Ganges water, and they are very
healthy as well as spiritually inclined. That is the effect of Ganges
water. The Ganges is glorified because it emanates from the toes of the
lotus feet of the Lord. Similarly, if one takes to the service of the
lotus feet of the Lord, or takes to Krsna consciousness, he is
immediately cleansed of the many dirty things which have accumulated in
his innumerable births.”

Elsewhere, Rupa Goswami writes that the Ganges is always pure, regardless of its seeming pollution:

“Being situated in his original Krishna conscious position, a
pure devotee does not identify with the body. Such a devotee should not
be seen from a materialistic point of view. Indeed, one should overlook a
devotee’s having a body born in a low family, a body with a bad
complexion, a deformed body, or a diseased or infirm body. According to
ordinary vision, such imperfections may seem prominent in the body of a
pure devotee, but despite such seeming defects, the body of a pure
devotee cannot be polluted. It is exactly like the waters of the Ganges,
which sometimes during the rainy season are full of bubbles, foam and
mud. The Ganges waters do not become polluted. Those who are advanced in
spiritual understanding will bathe in the Ganges without considering
the condition of the water.” [ Nectar of Instruction, Text 6 ]

Reading these instructions, I decided to follow the advice of my
spiritual master and the Srimad Bhagavatam. I remembered a key verse:

“Only unto one who has unflinching devotion to the Lord and to
the spiritual master does transcendental knowledge become automatically
revealed.” [ Svetasvatara Upanisad 6.23 ]

“I’m going,” I said to myself out loud, with full conviction.
“Whatever it takes, I will bathe at the Triveni Sangam at the auspicious
time.”

The arrangements to travel to the sangam were made by Pundrik Goswami.

“Maharaja,” he said to me, “you’ll come with me and the spiritual
leaders in a van, and your assistants, Narottam das, Vikram and
Kartamashi das, can go in another. It will take us around four hours to
reach the sangam.”

“That’s a long time,” I said. “How far away is it?”

“It’s 12 kilometers from here,” Goswami said.

“So we’ll be traveling at a rate of three kilometers an hour?” I asked.

“Well, remember there are 64 million people vying for that little
space at the sangam,” he said. “The police say that since midnight last
night 32 million people have bathed. But we’ll make it. We have a police
escort.”

I sat on the floor of the van, relinquishing the seats to six elderly
sadhus who were joining us on the journey. Wanting to focus on the
purpose of our journey, I read aloud the following verse from Caitanya
Caritamrta:

“The greatness of mother Ganges always brilliantly exists. She is
the most fortunate because she emanated from the lotus feet of Sri
Visnu, the Personality of Godhead. She is a second goddess of fortune,
and therefore she is always worshiped both by demigods and by humanity.
Endowed with all wonderful qualities, she flourishes on the head of Lord
Siva.” [ Caitanya Caritamrita, Adi Lila 16.41 ]

When the sadhus heard me chanting the Sanskrit glorifying Mother Ganges, they all smiled broadly.

Our van crawled through the dense crowds. Seeing the sadhus inside,
people folded their hands in respect, and some touched the van and then
touched their heads. When they saw me crouched on the floor of the van,
many smiled and called out, “Hare Krsna!”

“You Western vaisnavas are keeping our spiritual culture alive,” one of the sadhus said to me.

We finally arrived at the river confluence hours later. The bank
seethed as people tried to move towards the water while others tried to
move back after bathing.

“Alright! We’re here!” Pundrik Goswami called. “Everybody out!”

I hesitated. “Out where?” I thought. There was not an inch of free ground.

I quickly changed into a small red gamcha (thin cotton waist towel)
and slung a small towel around my neck. Kicking off my sandals, I
grabbed my cell phone and placed it in a small plastic bag. “Just in
case!” I thought. Finally, I tucked my bag containing my passport and
money safely under the seat. For a moment I contemplated taking a
sweater because it was so cold outside.

“No,” I decided. “I’ll just take the bare minimum. The river is only meters away and we’ll be back in a flash!”

Without warning, the sliding door I was leaning on opened and I fell out of the van and onto the ground.

“I’m going to get trampled!” I thought. The crowd surged over me and
around me. I pushed myself upwards to gasp for air; all I could see was
waves of people for kilometers in every direction. When I finally
managed to steady myself on my feet, I saw I was 20 meters behind the
sadhus. They were intrepidly pushing their way towards the water, the
policemen guarding them on all sides. The crowd was squeezing me and it
was hard to breathe.

“Wait for me!” I yelled, trying to recover the distance between us.
My cries merged into the tumultuous noise created by the pilgrims as
they strained forward to bathe in the nectar of immortality.

I managed to rejoin the sadhus just a few meters from the Triveni
Sangam where the Ganges flows alongside the Yamuna and the mystical
Saraswati River joins them from beneath the ground. We were also joined
by Vikram and Kartamashi, who was trying to take photos in the midst of
it all. His face was ashen.

“I thought I was going to be crushed to death!” he blurted out.

The roar of the crowd at the sangam was deafening as thousands of
people simultaneously achieved their goal of bathing. Cries of “Ganga Ma
ki jaya! All glories to Mother Ganges!” reverberated everywhere.

Far away in the river, separated from the throng, I saw a small group
of four sadhus standing motionless in the water, their hands folded in
prayer. Their long, matted hair was tied up in topknots on their heads.
Though thin, they were not emaciated; in fact, they were effulgent,
almost glowing. Seeing their gravity and obvious devotion, the hair on
my arms stood up for a moment.

“That’s the mood I’m seeking,” I thought. I remembered a verse that encapsulated my aspirations:

“O Lord of Madhu, as the Ganges forever flows to the sea without
hindrance, let my attraction be constantly drawn unto You without being
diverted to anyone else.” [ Srimad Bhagavatam 1.8.42, “Prayers by Queen
Kunti” ]

As if hearing the verse I had just remembered, the sadhus I was with
sat down together to do puja, their attention single-pointed on the
sacred sangam, oblivious to anyone else.

“Here and now?” I thought. I watched in disbelief as they took out
all sorts of paraphernalia and, in a peaceful reverie, began offering
arotik to the three rivers. Hundreds of people directly behind us were
straining to see the sadhus do their puja, while the build-up of people
further back caused the line to bulge. People fell to the ground because
of the weight of the crowd behind them.

I heard Vikram calling, “Maharaja! Maharaja!” Over to my right, the
intense pressure of the crowd was pulling him away. Then he simply
disappeared into the mass of people.

Suddenly the crowd surged forward with such force that all of us were
thrown into the river. I clutched my phone in the plastic bag as I fell
into the cold water. I swam up to the surface, gasping for air. There
was transcendental chaos everywhere as people splashed each other in
great joy. The glorification of Mother Ganges reached a frantic pitch:
“Ganga Ma ki jaya! Ganga Ma ki Jaya! Ganga Ma ki jaya!”

Surrendering to the moment and remembering the four effulgent sadhus,
I stood with my hands folded and prayed to Mother Ganges for loving
devotion to the Supreme Lord. Then, following the prescribed method for
bathing, I dunked three times into the cold water. When I came up the
last time, one blissful sadhu jumped on me and we both tumbled back into
the water. Coming up, he again pulled me under, this time going deeper
into the water. We splashed each other in great fun, and more sadhus
joined our little melee.

“Maharaja,” I heard a voice shout. I saw Vikram swimming towards me.
“I finally found you!” he said. “Our group is back on the bank of the
river and is preparing to leave. You must come now.”

As I prepared to get out of the water I saw Kartamashi on the bank
taking photos. I raised my arms in bliss, and he took a last photo
before being pushed from behind. He and his camera just escaped falling
into the river.

I glanced back to catch a last glimpse of the four sadhus. They were nowhere to be seen.

“How is that possible?” I wondered. “There’s no way they could have
moved through all the people bathing in the sangam back to the bank.
It’s very peculiar.” I remembered something I had read a few days
before:

“Prabhupada said that although a number of the saints and sadhus
present [at Kumbha Mela] were inauthentic, many were perfect yogis, some
of them three and four hundred years old. These yogis, from remote
parts of India, would come out for the Mela and then return to
seclusion. ‘I have personally seen,’ he said, ‘that they take bath in
the Ganges and come up in the seven sacred rivers! They go down in the
Ganges and come up in the Godavari River. Then they go down and come up
in the Krsna River, and go down, like that. The devotees, therefore,
should respect everyone who attended the Mela.’” [Srila Prabhupada
lilamrta, Volume 4, Every Town and Village]

It took me a good half an hour to make it back to the van. Somehow we
had acquired a number of additional sadhus for the ride back to the
camp, so I offered to ride in the smaller car with Narottam, Vikram and
Kartamashi. Always concerned about my welfare, Pundrik Goswami
reluctantly agreed. I started to push through the crowd away from the
van when I realized I had forgotten my bag with my passport in it.

“I left my bag under the seat,” I called to Goswami. “I’ll get it when we’re back.”

“Sure, Maharaja,” he called. He held the bag up so I could see it. “I’ve got it.”

Confident that the smaller car was nearby, I made my way inch by inch
to where I had seen it parked some distance away. But to my
astonishment, it was gone. I made my way as quickly as I could back to
where the van was parked, only to find it had left as well.

I stood there, momentarily bewildered. I was alone in a crowd of 64
million people, dressed only in a small wet gamcha with a damp towel
around my neck. I had no dhoti, no kurta, no shoes, and, perhaps most
alarmingly, no jacket to protect me from the cold. I had no clear idea
where I was. All I knew was that the camp I was staying in was in Sector
7, and that that was 12 kilometers away. 12 kilometers through a mass
of humanity pressing its way along the 300 kilometers of roads
crisscrossing the Mela site. I had no map, and there were no signs
giving directions in Hindi, much less English. I glanced at my watch. It
was 4 p.m. and sunset was imminent.

Then I remembered I had my phone clutched in my hand. I unwrapped it
from its plastic-bag covering and turned it on. To my dismay I saw there
was no service available, and my battery had only 3 % left in it. I
hurriedly turned it off.

“How in the world do people know where they’re going?” I wondered.
Then, laughing to myself, I thought, “I’m probably the only person in
this crowd of 64 million people who doesn’t know where he’s going!”

Knowing for sure that the direction to proceed was not behind me, I
started walking forwards through the thick crowds surging towards the
river. An hour later, I made it to a crossroads, turned left and began
walking down a dirt road with a myriad of shops and ashrams on either
side. Each ashram was festooned with colorful banners advertising the
resident guru and his teachings. Speakers blared music from inside. As
it was now getting dark, bright lights illuminated the temporary city
built on the sandy banks of the Ganges.

People gawked at me curiously, and I understood why. I was the only
white person to be seen, and I was practically naked. Several times I
was approached by Naga-Babas who, thinking me to be one of them, pulled
me into their tents and offered me a chillum of hashish to smoke! Each
time I declined they seemed perplexed.

I knew I needed to get directions, but to my dismay I couldn’t find a
single person who spoke English. There were many different languages
being spoken around me because there were pilgrims from every part of
India, but not one of those pilgrims was speaking English. There were
policemen on every street corner, but they too could make no sense of
what I was saying. On a couple of occasions, they literally pushed me
away, apparently thinking me to be insane.

A real blow came when I heard a young Indian man say to his friend,
“Isn’t that Indradyumna Swami?” But before I could say anything, his
friend pulled him away saying, “Come on! Are you crazy? That’s not
Indradyumna Swami!” They disappeared back into the crowd before I could
confirm my identity and ask their help.

Every now and then I would turn my phone on to see if I was in range.
Each time I wasn’t, and each time the battery drained a little more.

By 8:00 pm it was quite cold. From time to time when I got too cold
to continue, I slipped into an ashram where a program was going on and
sat amongst the crowd for warmth. On one occasion, while sitting in a
chair and watching a bhajan on stage, I was approached by one of the
ashram leaders.

“Are you in need of anything?” he asked.

“Yes!” I replied enthusiastically, surprised and relieved that I had
found someone who spoke English. “I am lost in the Mela and trying to
find my way back to my camp. It’s in Sector 7. Can you help me to get
there? I have been wandering around for four hours now. Is it far away?”

“Yes, it is,” he said. “It’s about 12 kilometers away at the far end
of the Mela site. At the moment you are 50 meters from the bathing spot
at the sangam.”

My jaw dropped. I had walked in a big circle, coming back to the
exact place I had started. The ashram leader could see my
disappointment.

“Why don’t you rest here for a while?” he said. “I’ll get you a blanket.”

“Thank you,” I said. Once I was wrapped in the blanket, I succumbed
to my exhaustion and started to drift off to sleep in the chair. I awoke
with a start when my entire body began to itch. The blanket was full of
fleas and they were ruthlessly biting me. I threw the blanket to the
side and quickly left the ashram, determined to reach my destination.

I started out in a different direction. Two hours later, around 10
p.m., I realized that I couldn’t keep going unless I had something to
eat. I had learned the hard way not to eat food that I wasn’t 100% sure
of in India, but this was an emergency. I joined a line of pilgrims
waiting to be served prasadam at one of the food kitchens. It took 45
minutes for me to reach the front of the line. I was given a leaf plate
and 2 leaf cups, and was served kichari, a subji, two warm chapatis and a
cup of tea. Some smiling pilgrims waved at me to join them as they ate
their meal in a circle on the ground. Several times I heard the word
“Angreji” which means “English person”. They were kind and sympathetic
to me, probably because of my paltry attire.

Hungry, cold and tired I devoured the prasadam. “This is some of the
tastiest prasadam I ever had!” I thought, laughing to myself. Once I
finished, I thanked the pilgrims and continued on my way with renewed
vigor.

I began wondering what Pundrik Goswami, Narottam, Vikram and Kartamashi were thinking.

“Surely, they realized quite quickly that I had been left behind,” I
thought. “They must be frustrated and worried, being unable to contact
me or find me. But actually, I’m fine,” I realized. “There’s no real
danger and it’s only a matter of time until I get back to the camp,
whether it’s today or tomorrow. And I am meeting so many nice people!
Krsna played a little trick on me just so I can see how the mass of
people experience Kumbha Mela. He’s also teaching me how to fully depend
on Him. Wonderful!”

Just then I felt a rock whiz past my ear. Then another and another. Looking back I saw a group of children laughing at me.

I walked quickly away but they followed me and continued throwing stones.

“I can’t blame them,” I thought. “I must look pretty crazy—a barefoot
white guy with a dishelved sikha wandering around half naked.” Then one
of the rocks hit my elbow causing me to yell out in pain. A policeman
saw what was happening and yelled at the group of children to leave me
alone. Then he came over and spoke to me in Hindi.

“No Hindi,” I said. “English.” I got down on my hands and knees and wrote “Sector 7” in big letters in the sand.

“There,” I said, pointing. “I need to go there.”

He looked puzzled and took me by the arm to an ashram just a few
meters away. He sat me down on a mat and disappeared. Ten minutes later
he came back with a man who offered me a hot cup of tea. I gladly
accepted it and then both of them went on their ways. I curled up on the
mat and fell asleep. When I jolted awake, I checked my watch; I’d slept
for 10 minutes. I got up and continued on my way, first checking to
make sure the group of children was not around.

At 11:30 p.m. I checked my cell phone again. I was in range! But I was alarmed to see there was only 1 % battery power left.

“I have enough power for one phone call,” I thought. “If the person
doesn’t answer, I won’t be seeing any of my friends tonight.”

I choose to call Narottam. He picked up immediately.

“Hello! Hello! Gurudeva, is that you? Hello?” Narottam sounded both excited and worried.

“Yes, it’s me!” I said.

“Good Lord! We’ve been so worried. What happened? Where are you? I’ve been out looking for you for hours!”

“I’m not sure where I am,” I said. “I’ve been walking around in
circles since we were separated. But I’m fine. Just a little cold and
tired. Can you find a car and come to collect me?”

“It’s almost impossible to find a car at this hour, but I’ll try,” he
said. “The main thing is that we need to figure out where you are.” He
was silent for a moment, thinking. “OK, here’s an idea. Take a photo of
where you are and send it to me on WhatsApp. I’ll go to a police station
and ask for their help in finding your location.”

“Brilliant idea!” I said. And without even saying goodbye I hung up
and quickly took a picture of the scene in front of me. I sent the photo
on WhatsApp and my phone immediately died.

It took Narottam just 30 minutes to find me. It turned out that his
search had led him quite close to where I was, and the nearby police
kiosk was quickly able to identify the junction where I was waiting.
When he finally arrived, I jumped into the car and sat as close as I
could to the heat coming out of the vents on the dashboard. Just as the
car was pulling away there was a loud bang and it stopped in its tracks.

“What was that?” Narottam asked.

“The driver dropped his transmission,” I said with a wry smile.

“What does that mean?”

“Basically, it means we aren’t going anywhere in this car,” I said, getting out.

“Now what?” Narottam asked.

“Lots of walking!” I said. “Let’s go!”

“Where are we going?” he said.

“Sector 7 of course!” I replied.

With Narottam at my side, we were in a much better position to make
it back to our camp, simply because he speaks Hindi. He asked people for
the directions to Sector 7 and after a short time he had a good idea
how to get there.

“How long will it take to walk there?” I asked.

“Through this crowd,” he replied, “Maybe 2 or 3 more hours.”

I looked at my watch. It was 12 p.m. For the first time that day I became a bit despondent.

And then a taxi came around the corner.

“Narottam, stop that taxi!” I yelled. He literally jumped in front of
the taxi, surprising the driver, who screamed at him in Hindi.

“What did he say?” I asked.

“He said he’s not working now. No way.”

“Yes, he is,” I said. “Give me 1000 rupees.”

I opened the back door of the taxi and jumped in. The taxi driver looked shocked.

“Out!” he screamed in Hindi.

“Bhai sabh, brother!” I said. “This is for your trouble.”

He smiled when he saw the money. “No problem!” he said in English.

At 1 a.m. we pulled into our camp. Everyone was fast asleep, but I
saw the light was still on in Pundrik Goswami’s room. I knew he would be
worried about me. His eyes opened wide when he saw me standing there
barefoot in my red gamcha, the cold wet towel still around my neck.

“Maharaja, I am so sorry!” he said.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” I said with a big smile. “Tonight, I
experienced Kumbha Mela first hand, much like Hiuen Tsiang from China
probably did in the 7th century. But whereas he walked amongst half a
million people for 75 days, I walked amongst 64 million people for 9
hours. It was one of the most wonderful experiences of my life!”

We left the Mela around noon that day. When we drove out of our camp, I was surprised to see the streets were mostly deserted.

“Where is everyone?” I asked Narottam.

“Many of the people you saw yesterday came just to bathe in the
sangam,” he said. “The majority were leaving on foot late last night
when I was looking for you. More people will come again for other
important bathing days in the next few weeks. Did you enjoy your visit,
Gurudeva?”

“It was most satisfying,” I replied. “I feel as though the sadhu’s
benediction upon me has come to pass, for I indeed feel as though Mother
Ganges has blessed me. I was able to bathe in the Triveni Sangam in the
association of advanced souls at the most auspicious moment to occur in
200 years. I spent time with the masses and, most importantly, I was
able to share Krsna consciousness with a number of important spiritual
leaders of the country. I feel very fortunate to have visited this
sacred place on such an auspicious occasion.”

**********************

“There are several places in India. One of them is this
Naimisaranya and another very important place is called Prayaga,
generally known as Allahabad. But the original name is Prayaga. That is
considered to be one of the most sacred places in India. Still every
year there is a fair called Magha-Mela. Magha means during the month of
January, February, a fair takes place in which all the sages, saintly
persons, come from all over parts of India. They gather and take their
bath at the confluence of Ganga and Yamuna. That is a very nice place.
If you visit India, you should see all these nice places.”

“The Supreme Personality of Godhead is so kind to the conditioned souls that if they call upon Him by speaking His holy name, even unintentionally or unwillingly, the Lord is inclined to destroy innumerable sinful reactions in their hearts. Therefore, when a devotee who has taken shelter of the Lord’s lotus feet chants the holy name of Krsna with genuine love, the Lord can never give up the heart of such a devotee. One who has thus bound the Supreme Lord within his heart with the ropes of love is to be known as bhagavata-pradhana, the most exalted devotee of the Lord.” [ Srimad-Bhagavatam 11.2.55 ]

“Today is the appearance day of Srila Prabhupada’s spiritual master, Srila Bhaktisiddhanta Sarasvati Thakura. He was very kind, but also very strict. He said of himself, ‘I am not only a proofreader of the press; I am a proofreader of men—-I see their faults and try to correct them. I am also a proofreader of religion. I have appeared in the zodiac sign of the crab, so whenever I see anything undevotional, I act like a crab. If I see any so-called devotion, not actually in the true unalloyed spirit, I shall pierce it!’

“The purification of one’s chanting hari-nama means as soon as you chant the holy name of Krsna you will see the form of Krsna, realize the qualities of Krsna, remember the pastimes of Krsna. That is pure chanting of Hare Krsna mantra. That is stated in the commentary of Srila Jiva Goswami: that a pure devotee who chants Hare Krsna mantra immediately realizes the nama, rupa, guna, lila – everything about Krsna, simply by chanting the names. You will feel the form of Krsna. You will remember all His qualities. ‘Oh, Krsna is so qualified – He is so magnanimous.’ Then you will remember His lila pastimes: ‘Oh, Krsna instructed Arjuna. Krsna played with His cowherd boys. Krsna had very nice talks with the gopis, with His mother, Yasoda.’ These things you will remember. That is the actual perfection of chanting.”

[ Srila Prabhupada quoted in ‘Srila Prabhupada Lilamrita’ Volume 4, Every Town and Village – Around the World. 1968 – 1971 ]

“Instead of contemplating what will happen to this world, you have got a short duration of life, say fifty, sixty years. You chant Hare Krsna and go back to home, back to Godhead. Don’t consider what will happen to this world. Nature will take care of it. You don’t puzzle your brain with these thoughts. You utilize whatever time you have got in your possession and go back to home, back to Godhead. You cannot check it. Best thing is that you mold your life and go back to home, back to Godhead. Because people will go on with their rascal civilization, natural consequences will be there. You better take advantage of whatever time you have got and become fully Krsna conscious and go back to home.”

https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/xSlzU0FM0pxRtvlr76gZ6GZBEodPlcheBwhjBo8-oC6s8T8cjNQl_QBR8Bcs5dyV67XcfGkSl_DcR-KQCYb7DQqbEcA=s30000Raja-kumari dasihttps://lh3.googleusercontent.com/xSlzU0FM0pxRtvlr76gZ6GZBEodPlcheBwhjBo8-oC6s8T8cjNQl_QBR8Bcs5dyV67XcfGkSl_DcR-KQCYb7DQqbEcA=s300Raja-kumari dasi2019-02-19 06:58:142019-02-26 07:02:51You have got a short duration of life / Жизнь коротка

“The next incarnation is Varaha, who appeared in the form of a boar or hog. He delivered this earthly planet by His tusks, and kept the whole world on His tusks. We can only just imagine how big He appeared! The world at that time appeared just like the moon disc decorated with some marks. He says, “My dear Lord, You have appeared as the great boar. So let me offer my respectful obeisances unto You.”

During Kartika, in Santipur, at the house of Advaita Acarya, I received unimaginable mercy. The pujari kindly placed the sacred salagram-sila that Advaita Acarya had worshipped 500 years ago, while appealing to the Lord to appear, on my head.